The Main Character must have blue hair
by deadpancakesnarker
Summary: Kendo captain and councilor. Top scorer and serial heartbreaker. Genius. Charismatic. Badass. We already know that story. This story is about an alternate iteration of the P3 universe, where everything's a bit weird, everybody's a little out of character. This story is about Ryoji Mochizuki, who isn't the main character. Why not? See above.


_**Prologue:**_ **The Main Character must have blue hair**

There was a zombie waiting outside when I stepped out of the house this morning. Come to think of it, the zombie was really a middle aged man and he was sprawled against the wall somehow making moaning noises while drooling at the same time. In hindsight I really should have gone over and checked on him and maybe called an ambulance, or at least done a double-take to register my shock at the spectacle.

But perhaps it was because the scene was so incomprehensible, because it was such a comic _non sequitur_ that I carried on walking to the train station without so much as a glance. In fact, the gravity of what I had witnessed was only just beginning to dawn upon me when I was so rudely (actually cheerfully) interrupted and those thoughts were lost forever into the recesses of my subconscious.

"Morning Ryoji."

Or at least that's what I thought she said before yanking off my headphones so unceremoniously.

My reply was so reflexive it would have made Pavlov swell with pride. "Why, if it isn't Yukari Takeba, archery captain and one half of Gekkoukan's power couple." I briefly wondered about when the high school main gate had become such a clichéd setting for not-so-random encounters. "Where's the boyfriend?" I jabbed.

"I see you're in a good mood this morning," The brunette chirped unfazed. "Minato's at Kendo," she explained. "Prefecturals are in three weeks, you know. Not everybody insists on such a carefree existence, brother."

"Awww, it must be _so_ tough having a boyfriend as busy and talented as yourself…" I was having fun now in spite of the glances this odd couple attracted from a few puzzled onlookers, some of them not exactly approving – "…sister."

Only the author with the most warped sense of humour could have written such an ironic scenario – an infamous social outcast with the school's most popular girl for a sibling.

"See, this is why you don't have any friends, Ryoji." Yukari shakes her head, cueing another one of her lectures. "You certainly have the grades and maybe the looks, but that crappy attitude is never going to get you a girlfriend. I'm just about the only girl that will ever talk to you, and that's only because I _have_ to."

I deflect the insult with a callous flick of my wrist. "Ha. You know I don't care about that – I love myself too much. If I ever get a girlfriend, it would be like me betraying myself."

"Oh, brother." I could almost feel her eyes rolling backward.

"Was that supposed to be a clever pun?"

"Shut up."

Unfortunately, the good vibes from meeting my fraternal twin only lasted as long as it took for me to walk to the door of classroom E, when I bumped into a certain blue-haired individual leaving the student council room across the corridor. The briefest of eye contact was enough to initiate that trademark disarming smile which I swear was almost flirtatious. A flawlessly executed 10⁰ nod of acknowledgement followed a perfectly timed pause, then in a falsetto voice that had made countless maidens swoon and several noses bleed spontaneously (sometimes both): "Mochizuki-san." It felt like honey was being poured down my ears and I cringed inwardly.

"Arisato." _Minato Arisato. Kendo captain and councilor. Top scorer and serial heartbreaker._ If there were some sort of advanced metrics to quantify a person's "Academics", "Charm" and "Courage", his stat descriptors would surely be "Genius", "Charismatic" and "Badass" in that order.

Today I could detect the slightest hint of a decidedly feminine shampoo that was not too pungent yet strong enough to induce a pleasant feeling in anyone within a 5-metre radius, no doubt the result of a bath he took sometime within the last half hour. Those emo bangs were once again _just_ at the right length and angle such they _just_ obscured the right eye, all the more impressive when one factors in the likely use of a hairdryer.

It took all of my self-control to not show the feeling of repulsion that welled up within me, a task that was made considerably harder when I suddenly remembered that _this is my sister's boyfriend oh my god._ I managed a weak smile and half-reached, half-lurched for the door as visions of wedding dresses and blue-haired babies consumed me.

…

 **Author's notes:** It's 2015. That's 9 years since P3's Japanese release. So why am I writing this? Why are you reading this? Why is the next installment of this fanfic nobody cares about only going to come out next month?


End file.
